Hurt
by Brazen Hussy
Summary: Glenn is dead, and all Maggie knows is that she needs the pain to stop. She only knows one way to do that, and there's only one man she can ask to help her... no matter how much she hates him. Dark Maggie/Merle or Merlie smut. Don't like the pairing, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

_I don't know why I keep going for these one word titles. I must be turning into the Pet Shop Boys. _

_Anyway, this poured itself out of me, and insisted on being written over two nights, I don't know why, but you can sort of see it as a contrast to the latest chapter of In His Own Image. Its already pretty much written so hopefully it will act as an apology, if not an aperitif, to those waiting for an update to Weeds. A warning though, this is very, **very** dark smut compared to my other work so, although it will get happier, do read with that in mind; this is a coarser and perhaps more callous version of Merle than my other stories, although I don't necessarily think that makes him a bad guy. _

**Hurt**

Maggie gripped the bars tightly and let out a low moan as he slammed back into her, the pleasure-pain of it searing across her nerves. She could feel the cold metal against her cheek contrasting with the heat of his body against her back, and the burn of his thick cock stretching her. Maggie clenched around him, taking back some small measure of control, and was strangely satisfied to hear him groan a little in return. If she wasn't so far gone in lust and arousal, she might be slightly horrified at her reaction.

After all, she certainly wouldn't be fucking Merle Dixon if Glenn was still alive.

…

Poor, sweet, boyish Glenn, always trying to be the leader he worried he wasn't, like he still needed to earn the right to walk shoulder to shoulder with Rick and Daryl. It had been Glenn who had made the fateful decision to take Michonne to the Governor, and Glenn who had released her only to find her taking his side against the small army he'd brought with him. It had been Glenn therefore, who had bravely tried to take down as many of the Governor's troops as he could, even attempting a shot at the Governor himself.

Of course, it couldn't work. Sometimes Maggie wondered if he'd ever expected it to.

Waiting anxiously by the gate, it had been Maggie who first read the look on Daryl's face when he returned alone; the one that told her Glenn wasn't coming back, the one that hinted that Glenn had needed to be put down. She hadn't even wondered about Michonne. She had walked straight back to her cell then, ignoring the arms of her father and sister as they reached out to comfort her, shutting herself in her cell and ignoring all consolation for the rest of the day. Grief she could handle, she had handled it since before the world went to hell, but for some reason she found her emotions ambiguous, and the grief mixed with guilt and rage meant she was in no shape to heal.

Her wounds were poisoned further when she overheard that they hadn't even killed the Governor with their sacrifice.

The next day she emerged, still clearly grieving but outwardly coping. What else could she do? Her sister, even her father still depended on her. The Governor would be coming soon, so she pretended to be taking strength from the thought of vengeance; it was strange how everyone accepted the explanation, no matter how simplistic it sounded to her. She knew the true complexity that existed within her, the turmoil; every inch of her felt raw and exposed. She existed in a state of pain she hadn't realised was possible.

Maggie needed relief, and she sought in the best way she knew how.

…

She wasn't successful at first. Knowing Rick's fragile mental state ruled him out, she tried Daryl instead; this was a dreadful mistake. She had lured him down to one of the cleared areas of the tombs on some pretext, only to press him against the wall and kiss him, pushing her breasts against his hard chest.

He'd flung her off with such violence she'd cannoned rather painfully into the opposite wall. "Wha' tha fucks _wrong_ wit' ya?" he'd yelled, looking disgusted as he wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist, "He ain't hardly dead yet an' yer fuckin' aroun'?

The force of his reaction having stunned her, Maggie had stared at him blankly, unable to explain. Daryl had stared back for a long moment, cold blue eyes narrowing, before he added in a marginally softer voice, "Ya need ta sort yer shit out, Maggie, an' this ain't tha way."

Picking up his fallen crossbow, he left her alone in the dark.

…

Maybe he was right to be disgusted; Maggie barely understood her motivations herself. She only knew that she needed to feel something, nothing, _anything_ other than this… this gnawing sense of wrongness. Even as she carried out her chores, spoke to the others, kissed and held her family, she felt like she never stopped screaming inside her head.

Then she'd noticed him.

Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say she noticed him as a man, as something other than Daryl's abrasive, redneck brother. She watched him for a while, and the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. He wasn't particularly handsome, but she could see he was strong and muscular, which she liked; it should be enough. Of course, there was his personality to contend with, but Maggie knew she wasn't looking for affection; even if she had been, she doubted he was the man to give it.

No, she needed him to give her something quite different, and the one benefit she could see of his being an asshole was that he was unlikely to refuse.

Like Daryl, she nearly got her head bashed in when she tackled him. Perhaps that was her fault though; she wasn't exactly straightforward. She'd seen him leave his post in the tower and head off for his usual patrol. Maggie could only guess it was some leftover habit from the military when he did this; most people were glad to stop watching the endless tide of walkers and come straight inside for food and rest. Not Merle though.

She'd stalked him all the way round to the recreation yard, where she watched him walk inside and fiddle with the iron barred gate. Walking quietly up behind him, she been shocked to find herself suddenly whirled around and thrown none too gently against the door. She didn't even have the chance to draw breath before he was pinning her tightly against the gate with his powerful body, the bladed stump resting just by her head and a heavy forearm pressed against her neck. His small, blue eyes burned brightly into hers, and he was close enough for her to smell his earthy, male scent; it wasn't entirely unattractive.

"I don't rightly know why ya followin' me, Bo Peep, mebbe ya thinkin' I wronged ya somehow, but if yer thinkin' ya gonna take me down, yer gonna have ta up yer game a whole..."

"Fuck me," she said clearly, her eyes holding his.

…

For a moment he looked angry, but then the frown changed to one of confusion.

"Fuck ya?" he queried, as though unsure he'd heard her correctly.

"Fuck. Me." Maggie stated with greater force, and to ensure there was no misunderstanding, she punctuated her sentence by reaching down and firmly grasping his dick through his pants, roughly massaging the heat of it. The thought flitted across her mind that at least as far as size was concerned, she'd made a more than satisfactory choice.

Merle's eyes widened in surprise then narrowed again, but she didn't stop touching him; he looked at her like he still wasn't sure if she was crazy before he grunted suspiciously, eased his weight off her and went for his belt.

At least she couldn't accuse him of being a tease.

Hands trembling with adrenaline, and perhaps no small measure of surprise that she was going ahead with this, Maggie quickly began to undo her own pants before shucking them down along with her panties. Looking up, she saw Merle's pants had dropped also, revealing not only that he went commando but that he was already half hard. She felt her mouth go dry and her pussy get a little wet at the thought of him pumping that inside her, and at last the endless spiral of thoughts and feelings in her head started to quieten, already becoming fogged and softened by lust; she glanced up to find Merle watching her, eager and lustful but still slightly unconvinced.

"Suck it," he dared, his rasping voice deeper, more authorative, but unable to prevent that note of disbelief creeping through. Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees in front of him.

Well, at least Merle proved to have one attractive feature. He wasn't much longer than average but he was thick and lightly veined; Maggie licked around the edge of the purpling head to gage his size before she sucked as much of him in as she could, getting wetter at the intake of breath that hissed through his gritted teeth as she did so. She had always loved the feel of a hard cock in her mouth, and eagerly traced her tongue along the throbbing veins. She was surprised and pleased to find he must have washed only that morning, leaving her with only the taste and smell of fresh sweat and musk and the emerging tang of precum. She brought up one hand to tug gently on his balls, while the other tightly circled the base of his shaft, and she heard Merle groan quietly, deep in his chest.

She knew she was good, and when she finally flickered her tongue in the sensitive slit at the tip of his cock she expected the thrust he gave into her mouth before she pulled away, letting his rock hard member pop out wetly from between her swollen lips. She looked up to find his eyes darkened and his breathing heavy.

"Fuck, girl, shoulda known wit' yer pa bein' a preacher ya'd give head like a fuckin' pro."

Her lips curled scornfully, and she raked her nails roughly down his thighs before she ducked her head and sucked him in again, causing Merle to let loose a long groan. His fingers threaded lightly through her hair as he fucked her mouth with surprising care, and it was only when she finally relaxed enough to swallow him down to the root that he suddenly swore lowly and pushed her away; she was pleased to hear another hiss from him as his saliva coated cock left her mouth and hit the cool breeze.

"Get up. Get up an' turn 'round."

There was no time for thinking anymore, the only feeling left was the slow burn of desire in her gut; it was such a beautiful relief. Allowing him to hoist her up by her arm she staggered, pants still round her ankles, and clutched at the bars of the gate, waiting for what came next. Almost as soon as she was balanced, she could feel his heat behind her, and the rustle of clothing as he kicked her legs as far apart as the fabric of her jeans would allow. It didn't allow much room, but she couldn't wait to to feel his hot, wet cock pushing between her thighs. She was surprised when she felt the rough scratch of stubble against her ass.

Her head snapped down to see Merle rubbing his face into her buttock, clearly intending to eat her out.

"Don't Merle," she warned, "just fuck me."

Merle looked up at her, eyes narrowed and questioning, but he stood up. "No harm in tryin', girl. Ain't no pussy as sweet as country bred an' chicken fed..."

Maggie snorted in disgust and turned her head away from the man. She needed a fuck, not some false display of tenderness or caring.

At last she felt his blunt, swollen head running along her slit, teasing her clit endlessly before finally probing at her entrance. Mindless, already soaked and desperate, Maggie arched a little more into him, feeling the slightly coarse brush of his furred thighs against her before Merle finally slid into her with a moan, not pausing until she felt the slap of his balls against her wet flesh.

Muscles suddenly slack, Maggie let her head drop back as she focussed purely on the the delicious burn and stretch of her pussy, the sense of heat and fullness that came from having Merle's cock buried deep inside her. The thought flashed through her mind that nice as it was, Glenn's cock had never filled her like this, but she pushed the thought away. She was glad that Merle was scorching the memory of Glenn's touch away. She didn't want to think about Glenn, not now, maybe not ever.

Meanwhile, Merle barely allowed her a moment to adjust to his size before he was moving inside her; some short questing thrusts at first, assessing the depths and angles that could be achieved in their position, before he began to slam into her, hard and fast and deep and just what she needed. His prosthetic was painful across her stomach, her delicate hipbones bruising against it, but she barely felt that when his hand ripped up her shirt and bra and tugged on her erect nipple viciously enough to make her yelp.

It all felt so fucking good; the roughness, the strange mix of pleasure and pain, the sense of mindlessly rushing towards something before death caught up with you. It was the kind of sex she never had with Glenn. He was all inexperienced sweetness and tender touches, smiles and giggling; not this harsh affirmation of life that left her clinging to the bars for support. She and Glenn had always made love but this… this was fucking, this was just lust and hormones and the thick slide of another's flesh inside you taking you to the edge of oblivion…

"Jesus… knew you'd still be tight after fuckin' that chink," Merle muttered hotly in her ear, as though reading the direction of her thought's, "if ya weren't so wet I'd think I was fuckin' a goddamn _virgin.._."

Maggie felt a rush of loathing through her and was about to angrily protest his insulting Glenn, when he'd finally hit that magic spot inside her. Merle clearly interpreted her resulting desperate whine correctly as he set up a driving rhythm, his hard cock striking it again and again.

"C'mon, girl," Merle growled in her ear, sounding desperate and close himself, "let it go fer me… been thinkin' 'bout how ya'd feel on my dick fer fuckin' _days_…"

Merle's filthy confession enhanced the tension already building within her, and after on a few more thrusts she was gasping and coming hard around him, her fluttering muscles gripping and pulling him in tightly. Close himself now, he gave a few grunting, sporadic thrusts before she felt him swell and empty himself deep inside her, the rush and the heat bringing on a second smaller tremor through her pussy as her treacherous body tried to milk him dry.

…

Eventually, they both stood there panting, the rush fading and the breeze starting to cool their sweat slicked skin; the pants round their ankles making it plain to anyone who passed by what they had been up to . Maggie was the first to move, shrugging him away and ignoring the electric feel of his softened cock sliding out of her sensitised flesh. As she bent slightly to pull up her jeans, he gave her a jovial slap on the ass before hitching up his own pants.

"Damn, Bo Peep! All that country livin' has given ya a healthy appetite. No wonder that itty-bitty chink couldn't satisfy…"

"Shut the fuck up, Merle," she snapped angrily, ignoring the guilt as she felt his still hot cum trickle down her leg. She yanked up her panties and jeans, threading through buttons with hands that now trembled with anger and shame.

Merle's grin remained but his gaze became more considering, and Maggie felt his look was uncomfortably shrewd.

"Oh, I get it…" he began.

"You don't get anything Merle," she interrupted, though in a slightly calmer voice than before. "That's why you're nothing but a dumbass, redneck bastard."

For some reason, Merle seemed to find this amusing, and she flicked him a hard glance when he chuckled. "Yes ma'am, though that begs tha question, don't it…" suddenly he was far too close for comfort, his breath hot on her face, "why ya had ta come ta me ta scratch ya itch? Why it was my cock ya came around, why it's my cum drippin' out of ya…"

Maggie pushed him away as his words filled her with what she could only assume was a thrill of contempt. "Don't flatter yourself, Merle. You were _there_," she said lip curling. "Like you said, I had an itch to scratch, and you had what I needed to scratch it."

"Oh no, no, no, darlin'," he rasped, leaning on the gate and blocking her in with an arm. "Ya had other choices. Officer Friendly, that big ol' spearchucker we got now…"

"Maybe I'm just like you Merle, maybe I'm just a racist prick." Then, in an unusually vicious touch for her, she added, "Maybe I just wanted to practice on you before I went after your better looking brother."

"You an' tha Mouse on a hidin' inta nothin' wit' baby brother," Merle chuckled darkly, "Darleena, he don't like girls..."

Maggie couldn't conceal a start of surprise as she searched Merle's slightly mocking gaze. "Daryl's _gay_?" Merle nodded. "And you _know_…? But…"

Merle frowned at her as he answered, "He's still my brother, my blood, even if he is cocksuckin' pansy-ass faggot. Which ya now know I ain't…" He made as if to pull her in for a kiss but she shoved him back.

"Don't matter what I know about you, Merle, I know enough ta know I don't like you. This was a one-time thing, and it ain't never happening again. You understand? It's done. Now let me go." She was prepared to struggle again, and was surprised when Merle instantly released her and backed up slightly, holding up his arms in a show of surrender.

"Okay, lil' girl, no problem," he said in falsely placating manner, before that knowing grin crossed his face again, "but only 'cause we both know ya'll be back."

"Keep dreamin', Dixon."

"Yer gonna need this again, Bo Peep, an' when ya do tha Big Bad Wolf is gonna have ta eat ya..."

"That's Little Red Riding Hood, asshole."

"Whatever. Point is, we both know yer gonna be back. Only difference is, ol' Merle knows _why_…"

"Fuck you, Merle!" Maggie spat at him, storming out of the yard.

Merle laughter followed mockingly after her. "Already did, darlin'," he called, "already did…"

…

And there you have the first chapter. Why _did _she sleep with Merle? Will Maggie be back for more? I suspect you know the answer to at least the second question…

Reviews are as loved and appreciated as ever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

In some ways Maggie didn't dwell on what had happened between her and Merle. She didn't ascribe it any significance, obviously, as she didn't have any feelings for Merle; at least, not beyond the standard dislike and irritation everyone felt.

_And yet…_

… something bugged her about what had happened, something at the back of mind. Merle had a point; why had she sought him out? Rick was handsome; maybe he would have welcomed the distraction, been grateful for some release himself? And why hadn't she thought of the perfect physical specimen that was Tyreese, even for a moment? Instantly she thought 'He's too nice,' which she felt gave her part of an answer. Of course she didn't want to use good people just to get her out of a bad space emotionally; that must be why she'd turned to Merle, because she didn't care what his feelings were. Hell, he probably didn't have any…

… still, if that was the case, why had she approached Daryl? She _liked_ Daryl, she wouldn't think for a minute that he had no feelings… but gay though? Had she perhaps known it subconsciously, expecting him to reject her? No, it had been a genuine surprise, though perhaps less of one than finding out Merle 'Asshole' Dixon would stand by a brother he knew was gay, kin or not. Perhaps he did have more feeling than she gave him credit for.

What she could say about Merle with any certainty was that he was right… she did come back.

...

In fairness, Maggie was sure she was all but driven to it. Not even a few days after Glenn had given his life, the Governor returned alongside a numerous, armed but slightly incompetent Woodbury.

She could have taken all that, she _really_ could… Maggie wasn't scared as both she and Merle, armed and encased in salvaged riot gear, picked off the attackers from the exterior walkway. She had taken down a fair few before she saw what decorated the Governor's truck like a macabre hood ornament… it was only then that she snapped.

The hole left in his forehead by the crossbow bolt looked like a third eye, dark and glistening in the early light. His twisted mouth hung open in a never ending scream, while his pale eyes were rolled up in his head. Black blood oozed from his nose and the corner of his mouth, making his unnaturally pale skin seem even more lifeless.

Maggie screamed his name and dropped her weapon as she stood up from behind the defences, oblivious to danger. Suddenly she was roughly tackled from the side and knocked flat, the wind crushed out of her.

"Dumb bitch! Ya tryin' ta get yersel' killed?!" Merle rasped, clearly annoyed.

"You _fuck_!" she screamed, "Get off me! This is your fault. You made Glenn like this! It was _you_!" She tried unsuccessfully to punch him through the face guard, and hissed as she drew back her hand in pain. He snorted and rolled off her slightly.

"Yer go on an' hate on me if it makes it easier fer ya. I got broad shoulders, I can take any shit ya can dish out! But this bunch a pussies needs ya. Yer tha toughest sonofabitch here tha' ain't a fuckin' Dixon, so _man tha fuck up_ an defend yer family!"

She stared into his clear blue eyes, deep and cold like the sea, and she knew he was watching the heat leave hers as they turned icy, like his.

"Gimme my gun," she said viciously. Ever inappropriate to the situation at hand, Merle grinned, and it annoyed her to see his eyes become warm and human again. Merle shouldn't look like that.

"Tha's my girl," he chuckled.

"I _ain't_ your girl, and we ain't _done_," Maggie growled as she lined up the sights for another takedown.

"Hell, I _know_ that, darlin'," he yelled cheerfully over the gunfire, as he picked off citizen after citizen of Woodbury with quick and neat headshots, "I done tol' yer tha other day…"

…

Slippery devil that he was, the Governor escaped, taking most of Woodbury with him. Merle tried unsuccessfully to take him out as he drove away, and Maggie wasn't sure if it was deliberate or accidental that a few rounds from Merle's high powered rifle took Glenn's head and completely obliterated it. Either way she couldn't be sure if she was angry or grateful, and that worried her.

Later, she went to raid Woodbury with Rick and Daryl, and to their shock they found Karen the only survivor of the Woodbury expedition. That revelation of just how psychotic the Governor was gave Maggie pause, alongside a sudden understanding of what Merle had been living with for the past year. It also made her wonder how he had stayed alive serving such an unbalanced individual, given his tendency to shoot off his mouth with whatever offensive bullshit entered his head.

The excitement over, her nerves were in shards again, and she knew what she had to do; she had it all planned. After the people of Woodbury had been brought back and settled, only the core of their group remained at an exhausted dinner. Rick in particular had aged almost overnight when taking in the Woodbury survivors came hard on the heels of Glenn and Michonne's loss; eventually Daryl told him to get some sleep, that he'd take watch alone. Both men left, and the rest of them were too focussed on their own thoughts to notice the way she caught Merle's eye, and received an almost imperceptible nod in return.

"I'm going to go patrol the Tombs," Maggie announced, standing up, "check they're still secure."

"I'll help ya," Merle responded, standing himself with every appearance on unwillingness, "too keyed up in this fuckin' place ta sleep."

…

Yes, Maggie had it all figured out. She could feel that tension again, like pressure beneath her skin, only this time coloured by all the questions she wanted to ask him. Why had he kidnapped her and Glenn? Why did he throw the walker at Glenn? Why didn't he just kill him? Perhaps more personally, she wanted to know if her would have done anything differently, had he known what the Governor was going to do to her.

Of course, all her planning was for nothing. They barely got down in the narrow corridors when, distracted as she was by her thoughts, she was startled out of them by a walker lunging at her from the darkness. It was one of the Woodbury folk, so it was fresh and strong and very hungry. She didn't even have a chance to cry out before Merle's blade was plunging into its brain.

"Fuck is wrong wit' ya, girl? Tha's tha second time today I've had ta save yer sorry ass. Jesus, can't believe that dink chink prick finally did somethin' fuckin' useful an' ya just throwin' yer fuckin' life…"

Maggie turned around and punched him hard in the mouth. She tried not to show how much it hurt, but it was worth it to see Merle stagger, if only slightly. Merle was obviously used to taking harder shots than she could manage, but his eyes narrowed as he spat out some bright red blood onto the floor.

"This wha' ya brought me down here for, Bo Peep? Gonna beat me up fer hurtin' ya lil' boyfriend…"

Maggie went to hit him again, but he caught her wrist.

"I tol' ya I can take wha'ever ya got ta throw a me, but I'm thinkin' that ain't wha' ya wan' me ta do ta ya, is it? No," he continued, voice lowering a little, "yer hopin' I'm gonna deal ya back more a tha same, ain't that right?"

Suddenly he yanked on her wrist and Maggie was roughly tossed into a cell, her torch clattering on the floor. She heard a metallic clang as the cell door closed behind them. They stared at each other in the half light before he eventually spoke.

"Tell me no," he commanded, his hand moving to rest suggestively on his belt.

"Fuck you!" she hissed back.

"Tell me ya don't want this," he demanded again, his voice quietly confident.

"You disgust me!" she flung back.

"_Do_ I?" he asked, before that slash of a grin crossed his face and the metal of his arm was abruptly pressed against her delicate collar bone, pushing her back into the wall. His face was close to hers in the dim light of her fallen torch, and Maggie could feel his breath on her lips. She turned her face away to avoid any attempt he might make to kiss her, but her eyes snapped back to his with a gasp as he slipped his hand down the front of her pants and pressed his fingers into her folds.

"Tell me, darlin'… if ya _don't_ want me, why are yer _wet_?"

Maggie raised her chin, staring at him defiantly, her eyes only sliding closed when he gently circled her clit before pushing a finger inside her.

"Do ya want ol' Merle ta fuck ya?" he asked, his voice still low but the smirk in it unmistakable.

Maggie forced her eyes open and stared into that glittering blue gaze. Her jaw twitched as he slowly pumped the digit in and out of her, before stopping again.

"I said, do ya want me ta fuck ya?"

"I don't _want_ to fuck you," she finally snarled, resistance broken, "I just… I just _need _to."

Merle's smirk was clearly visible now. "Good 'nough. Take off them clothes."

"We don't need to…"

"Take 'em off. I'm doin' ya a fuckin' favour. Ya can do one fer me. An' I'm _assumin'_ that yer tha one bein' fuckin' safe."

On the basis that it didn't make much difference given what they were doing, Maggie stripped quickly and efficiently, looking down so he wouldn't see her confusion. Turned out she hadn't really planned this through as much as she thought. The first time there had been a morning after pill waiting back in her cell. This one was a little more short notice, so she'd have to find another in the medical supplies. She felt slightly sick that a selfish dick like Merle was reminding her to take care.

Soon Maggie was naked, and when she looked up again she saw Merle wave the finger covered with her musk under his nose, before licking it off with every appearance of delight.

"Ya gonna let me eat ya out?" he grinned, as his eyes roved over her.

"It's just fucking," she said dismissively, settling down on a mattress on her hands and knees, not looking at him.

"Still don't want ta face tha hard truth, huh?" he chuckled, "Well, don't cha worry Bo Peep, _I'm_ still hard…"

After some rustling, she heard him get down on the mattress behind her. Then he was kneeling between her legs, and Maggie felt his body heat all the more in the chill of the cells. She felt something rough trail across her back as Merle's large hand massaged her ass. With a start, she realised it was his uncovered stump, although she wasn't horrified as she thought she might be… and to her surprise the rough scratch of it down her spine felt…

Maggie was so distracted she didn't notice he had removed his hand until he plunged two fingers into her.

"Shit!" she yelped, as he began to move them inside her, twisting them so she couldn't stop herself convulsing around him, her back arching with pleasure. Instantly he removed his fingers and rammed his cock deep inside her.

Maggie let out a low scream as he penetrated more deeply than he had before, and she could feel the dully satisfying ache as she stretched further around him.

"Jesus _fuck_," Merle muttered as he bottomed out in her warmth, his balls against her clit, "still so damn _tight_… so hot… s'better than I fuckin' remembered…"

Involuntarily Maggie felt herself tighten at his words, causing Merle to groan a little. Then he began pumping into her, slow and steady so she felt every inch of him drag against her, the pace exquisite torture.

"Faster," she begged, "_harder_…"

"In a minute," Merle muttered, and she sensed his weight shift against her… then she felt his finger smearing her juices up to tease at her puckered hole.

"No," she snapped at Merle, perversely pleased to disappoint him. He huffed a little, and then began to slam into her angrily with greater pace and force. It was just what she needed, the slight pain of slapping flesh and heavy friction. Soon her mind was floating away as she came hard, shuddering around him before collapsing onto the mattress.

Merle followed her body down, remaining inside her as he thrust again. The angle was shallower and a little uncomfortable, but there was nothing she could do with the delicious tremors still running through her limp body. She spread her legs a little more to ease the strain, only to find her clit was now exposed to the rough mattress, stimulating her again.

With each thrust, Merle was slowly bringing her closer to another orgasm. Just as Maggie was nearing her peak she felt his finger back at her ass, and before she could say anything he popped the ring of muscle and was working it carefully inside her, in synch with his thrusts. It took her a moment after the initial flash of pain to realise he was stroking himself through her thin walls, and with that knowledge she flew apart again, gasping her orgasm into the mattress. This time he groaned and came with her, his face buried in her hair and his hot breath tickling her ear.

They lay there for a while, unable to move, but eventually she was overcome with shame at her own weakness, at the thought that she had enjoyed his violation... so she reverted to anger and stoked it to rage.

"Get the fuck _off_ me, you sick bastard!" she snarled, shoving back at him.

Sighing, Merle rolled off her, once again pulling out of her with strange consideration.

"Thought I had a fuckin' invite ta tha party… guess I was fuckin' mistaken though, right?"

"I didn't want you to do that, you knew I didn't!" she retorted, rolling to her feet and snatching up her clothes from the floor.

"Yeah, an' we both know that was jus' ta piss me off. Though once I done it, kinda seemed ta me ya come pretty fast…"

"Shut up, Merle! This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come back." She watched as he stood himself, apparently unembarrassed by his own nudity; somehow she let that fuel her anger.

"You want me to tell you the truth? Fine! I don't want you, and you do disgust me, okay? You're nothing but redneck trash, and I despise you. You hear me? I despise you for what you did to Glenn and me!"

Merle looked at her in silence for a long moment when she had finished, and for the briefest of instants she thought she hurt him. Then his eyes dropped and he pulled on his pants and shirt, and opened the cell door with a rusty creak with an air of indifference. As he went to walk through it though, he turned back to her with a hard look in his light eyes.

"Yer ask me back here, I'm havin' that ass." His voice was flat, making it more a statement of fact than a threat.

"Fuck you, Merle," she tried to yell, but to Maggie's disgust her voice came out as a croaky whisper.

He turned his back to her, and as Merle walked away down the corridor, she heard him reply quietly, "Yeah, seems I'm hearin' that a lot lately…"

…

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter – really pleased people enjoyed this darker take. I think next chapter we'll be tormenting Daryl, just a little bit. As ever, l love and am insanely grateful for reviews!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Maggie watched the new prison residents buzz around her, and felt increasingly out of place.

At first everyone felt the same… baring the relief of a few supply runs to the remains of Woodbury, the tension of waiting for the Governor's imminent return set everyone's teeth on edge.

However, what they had assumed would be a brief respite had extended into days, then a week, then two… prison life, which had at first seemed to exist in a state of pure suspense, began to settle into what might be called relative normality. At least in the sense that every day was the same repetitive grind of eating bad food, taking watch and doing chores before falling asleep to do it all over again.

This meant that the thoughts in Maggie's head circled her once more. Thoughts she didn't want to examine too closely. Thoughts that she could never speak of to her father, or even Beth… no, in fact Beth would be the worst person to speak to of them; she would certainly never understand.

It didn't help that she could feel the presence of Merle, circling her too in his strange way; she assumed waiting for the opportunity to fuck her like he said. It wasn't that he sought her out, or spoke to her any more than he did anyone else, nor even that he treated her any differently when he did have to interact with her, but… somehow, she always knew where he was, and she somehow knew his focus was on her, even when she was decidedly _not_ looking at him.

It amazed her how a man universally perceived as being noisy and volatile could have such long periods of silent intensity with no one else noticing. Still, she was determined not to give him the satisfaction of surrender... in more ways than one she though wryly... although, she would be lying if the idea didn't give her the slightest, strangest thrill. What the hell was _wrong_ with her?

Unfortunately, he was not the only Dixon brother with a watchful nature.

"Ya pull that same shit on Merle that ya pulled on me?" he asked one day, as they were alone on watch. As Maggie's startled eyes met his narrowed gaze, she couldn't help but feel he didn't really want to know. She looked away and sighed.

"It doesn't mean anything, Daryl. It's just release."

"Can't understan' ya fuckin' women," he muttered, his voice containing an undertone of anger, "Thought ya fuckin' lo…" he stopped himself as the flash in her eyes dared him to continue. "Thought ya cared 'bout Glenn, then there yer are, fuckin' tha man that threw a goddamn _walker_ at him…"

"He's _your_ brother," Maggie responded, stung, "you don't ignore him because of what he did!"

"Yeah, 'cos he's my fuckin' _brother_. Ya ain't got that excuse. Ya was meant ta be loyal ta Glenn."

"I _was_ loyal to Glenn. I _grieved_ for Glenn. But he's dead, and my wearing the damn willow for him won't change that. I don't see why it matters to _you_ anyway."

Daryl's gaze shifted away, and it suddenly hit her.

"Oh, Daryl… you and Glenn…"

"What tha fuck are yer talkin' 'bout woman?" he snapped, hefting his crossbow twitchily. To Maggie it was as good as a confession, and she could help but try to reach out to him.

"I know, Daryl. Merle told me."

The look in his eyes was one of a cornered animal as he shied away from her outstretched hand, "Ya don't know shit! An' neither does Merle."

"He knows you're gay, Daryl," she said calmly, and at Daryl's instinctive gesture of rejection, she added, "he told me. He's always known, but I… I only realised when he told me…"

She took a deep breath; she could the truth in his face even as she said it.

"…and you cared about Glenn, didn't you? That's why what happened with me and Merle upset you…"

"I ain't no fag," Daryl cut her off sharply, "an' don't ya fuckin' dare say otherwise!" he snarled, before storming off.

Maggie eyes were sad but understanding as she watched him go, before they snapped open on realising the direction he was headed.

Dammit, she couldn't leave the fence unguarded!

Looking around, after a minute she saw Tyreese coming outside, and managed to get his attention. When he jogged over, she thrust her gun quickly into his hands. "Take over for a minute, would you? Back in five."

She barely stayed long enough to hear his surprised "Sure thing…" before she was running for the cell block where Daryl had gone. As soon as she entered she could hear the sounds of a scuffle.

Rounding the corner, she saw the brothers wrestling with each other, before breaking apart to trade punches instead. Stunned for moment, she watched the impressive sight. Both men were powerful and fairly evenly matched, though in addition to appearing the more experienced brawler, Merle had clearly learned to compensate for the lack of his hand as well.

However, as she watched Daryl land a solid fist on his brother's jaw while Merle simultaneously rammed the prosthetic solidly into Daryl's ribs, she knew she couldn't let it go on, not when it was her fault. All things being relative, she determined Daryl to be the more docile personality, and so went to grab his wildly swinging arm...

…misjudging it badly, she got the full force of his elbow to her eye. Everything went white, then red, then dark.

…

She opened her eyes to the slightly panicked faces of the Dixon boys above her. Merle was the first to recover.

"See, tol' ya tha girl is one hard-ass lil' bitch! How ya feelin', Bo Peep?"

She barely got out a groan before Daryl was stumbling over his words in his haste to apologise. "I'm real sorry Maggie, I wasn't... I didn't see ya…"

"I'm fine…" she got out, sitting up but immediately feeling dizzy. Her cheek was throbbing like a sonofabitch. "Help me up…"

They helped her up, but the minute she stood she felt the world start to tilt. She closed her eyes, ashamed of feeling so weak, but was unable to stop the strength flowing out of her muscles… suddenly she was aware of rapid movement around her and to her speechless surprise she was lifted effortlessly into someone's arms. Her side was pressed against a warm solid chest, and the contrast between the strong muscles at her back and the cool metal behind her knees told her who it was.

She immediately despised the momentary rush of gratitude she felt.

"C'mon, le's get her back ta her daddy. He can fix her up."

"I can carry her," Daryl offered, "I... I hit her." He was clearly avoiding drawing attention to Merle's lack of a hand. Maggie was shocked at her own cruelty when she experienced a vicious desire to deliberately point out the disability and ask Daryl to carry her; fortunately Merle interrupted.

"Hell no! She comes back wit' us two an' a black eye, an' _yer _carryin' her? Everyone a them pricks is gonna think _I_ did it! Better if I carry her. Now c'mon, git movin', she ain't no featherweight, an' my arms is gettin' tired…"

"Ass…" Maggie growled, strangely making him laugh. She almost smiled herself; funny how at times he wasn't _entirely_ dislikeable… but then, Maggie pointed out to herself, she _had_ just been hit in the head.

Still, she felt _exhausted_, and her head _really_ hurt, and somehow it didn't seem the _worst_ thing in the world if she let her head rest on his shoulder… just a _little_.

…

Everyone stared when they got back to the main cell block. Even with one eye now swollen shut, she saw that as he had predicted, there were a few suspicious glances at Merle. If he didn't bring it on himself by being a dick to people most of the time, she could almost feel sorry for him.

"What happened?" Herschel gasped, limping over as fast as he could.

"I…" Daryl began awkwardly.

"Daryl caught me with a cell door," Maggie grunted, forcing the words out loud enough to carry to the group, "it was an accident… my fault… I wasn't looking where I was going."

The lie was accepted as truth; no-one thought Daryl would hurt her, and absolutely no-one would expect her to cover for Merle. Herschel even thanked him as he carried Maggie through to her cell and laid her carefully down on the bed. Maggie thought for the briefest of moments Merle looked almost surprised.

However, when her father stood outside the cell, issuing demands to those nearby to fetch the med-kit or make up a cold compress for her face, Merle's wicked voice was instantly whispering in her ear.

"Walked inta a door? Shouldda asked Carol fer a better excuse… bet she knows 'em all…."

"Oh Jesus…" she moaned, "fuck you, Merle."

"Here, in ya bed, wit' ya daddy watchin'?" he murmured in feigned shock, warm lips and hot breath too close to her ear for comfort, "Ya one kinky bitch, Bo Peep. Bet tha chink didn't even begin ta appreciate wha' he had…"

Maggie's hand swung slowly and vaguely through the air, aiming for Merle's jaw, and it didn't surprise her that even with only one hand he caught it easily. What did surprise her was that once he caught it, he held it… just that moment too long, his eyes on hers, burning but unreadable.

Uncertain of what it might mean, and unable to think of anything to say, she pulled away just seconds before her father hobbled back into the cell.

"Thank you Merle, I'll take it from here."

"S'alright, ol' man, I'm goin'" Merle smirked cryptically, getting up and moving to the door of the cell, "I'm still waitin' on my invitation…"

After watching him stride off after his brother, Herschel turned a puzzled face back to his eldest daughter. "Well, what do you suppose that means?" he asked, bewildered.

"Means he's an asshole," Maggie muttered, hissing as her father pressed the compress to her swollen eye and cheek.

…

Little bit of a shorter chapter this time; technically this is only half of the chapter I was finalising, but since it seemed a good place to end it and you guys have been so very good and patient with me, I thought I'd get it up so you know I haven't forgotten about this story.

Anyway, you know I love reviews so if you could leave one that would be wonderful, so shines a good deed in a weary world and all that!


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